Sunspots
by marmaroth
Summary: Ficlets for Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine. Sasuke, timeskip: "It happens because they just finished sparring, and they're tired and sore and hungry, and neither of them is thinking—which is rare enough that neither of them realize it, either."
1. Naruto, Ch 71

A/N: I never thought I'd be writing fanfic for fanfic, but I'm obsessed with DoS and-independent of _Naruto_ itself-it's pretty much taken over my mind as much as a separate fandom would. This is, essentially, to keep me sane while I'm waiting for Silver Queen to update.

* * *

Naruto _likes_ Shikako. He likes the way she invites him to dinner at her house and cooks for him but doesn't complain when he wants to go to Ichiraku's for lunch. He likes the way she explains things to him, patiently, without getting frustrated or angry when stuff doesn't make sense and he has to ask questions. He likes the way she listens to him, really listens, and thoughtfully considers everything he says like it matters, like _he_ matters.

He likes when she and him and Sasuke spar, and at the end of training when they all fall down exhausted, panting and grinning tiredly at each other. He likes when he asks her for help and she always drops everything she's doing, without fail, just for him. He likes when she smiles at him—like she cares about him, like she _believes_ in him.

Maybe she's forgotten, but Naruto never has. The first day at the Academy, the very first time someone had ever walked up to him and asked him if he wanted to play ninja. Someone who looked at him like he wasn't dirt on their shoes or a really nasty spider or a monster under their bed. A boy with a lazy slouch, and the girl behind him, peering at him hopefully. The girl who smiled and said _See you tomorrow,_ and nodded when he asked—brightly, hiding his nerves, certain he'd be rejected again— _we can play ninja again, right?_

Shikako is his first friend. His teammate. His precious person. His family.

And she's falling in a rain of blood, with a sword sticking out of her chest.

Naruto barely registers rage _,_ and despair, and agonizing failure—no no no not again, supposed to protect her, why didn't I move, what have I done, can't lose her, won't lose her, _Shikako_ —before everything is consumed by a blaze of red.


	2. Shikamaru, Ch 98

The problem with being a genius, Shikamaru learns, is that you start thinking everything is under your control.

It seems like a weird thing for someone like Shikamaru to admit—Shikamaru, who spends half his days being dragged around by Ino or his mother; being ordered around by his Hokage or his superiors in the supply department; and being trounced in shogi matches by his father or, occasionally, Asuma-sensei (who's getting quite good with the constant practice). Shikamaru, heir to the Nara, the clan that—in a village full of flashy doujutsu and ridiculously large summons—prides itself on genius that _doesn't_ proclaim its superiority from the rooftops. Genius that remains in the shadows. Genius that is always evaluating: strategies, surroundings, itself.

But quiet genius is still genius. Though he's often poked or bullied or bribed, Shikamaru has never gotten into anything that he himself isn't truly interested in. Everything he's ever done, he's done on his own terms. Entered the Academy—and purposefully stayed at the very middle of the bell curve. Made genin—knowing full well he'd be put with Chouji (his best friend) and Ino (who was troublesome but reliable). Tried for the Chunin Exams—alright, so Ino had to prod him quite a bit for that one, but in the end he went because his team needed him, and he knew everyone would underestimate them and he did want to show off a little, and Asuma-sensei pointed out that Konoha needed to make a good showing this year and a team of clan heirs could hardly sit around doing D-ranks during an event like this one.

It seems cold to say that, going in to all of these things, he pretty much knew how they were going to turn out. For example, short of some extreme training methods and the revelation that Asuma-sensei had been holding out on them all this time, he was the only one with a significant chance at making chunin; there was no way he couldn't have known that. Probabilities and outcomes are his forte, after all.

But the thing about probabilities is that what is probable isn't absolute. Shikamaru thought he'd always been good at keeping that in mind. He isn't like Sasuke, who was so driven by one goal that he refused to consider any alternatives. He isn't like Neji, who'd convinced himself that he was resigned to the whims of chance, only to discover that it wasn't true, that he'd had a blind spot all along.

He isn't even like Kakashi-sensei. Though he doesn't know the jounin very well, Shikamaru can tell he's been so battered by the darker possibilities in life that he's being worn down: still fighting, but with the desperation of a man in a lost battle.

Shikamaru thought he knew probability. And once you know probability, once you know how to manipulate it, you can control the outcome: that was what he'd learned through years of shogi matches. But the thing about knowledge is that the moment you're sure of something is the moment when everything you didn't consider comes back to bite you in the ass. There are always exceptions, and for some time now, his sister has been one of them.

When they were little, everything was fine. Shikako was a shy kid, content to hide behind him and follow his lead in almost everything. She listened to and watched him carefully, and tended to imitate him. If there were strangers around, she let him do the talking. _She depends on me_ , he realized. Something inside him swelled, a bubble of brotherly pride that Nara humility couldn't quite stifle. _She's counting on me._

Even in the Academy, 'Kako was quiet. Sure, she went off to kunoichi classes (Shikamaru had discarded the idea of crossdressing and following her as being too troublesome, though a part of him had seriously considered it), and she came back with friends who weren't really his, but they still hung out together most of the time—him and her and Chouji and Naruto and Ino and Sakura.

She didn't hide her intelligence like he did, though. She stood out. Maybe that was the start.

When she was assigned to Team Seven, he had a bad feeling. Sasuke and Naruto were the trouble magnets of their class, and his sister had just been lumped in with them both. Still, things would be fine, he thought. Her jounin-sensei was good. They were the Jounin Commander's children; of course he'd heard of Sharingan no Kakashi, the Copy-Nin, wielder of a thousand jutsu. If Kakashi-sensei couldn't teach, he could at least protect. (And if he couldn't do that, well, he was an average sized adult male; he'd make a good meat shield, Shikamaru rationalized.)

Then Shikako came back from her first C-rank, and Shikamaru realized he'd been naive.

He carefully hid his expression as Shikako told Mum about the mission, well aware that his sister was trying to white-lie her way out of an overreaction. Then her team came over and Naruto, of course, spilled the beans. Shikamaru would've laughed at the resigned expression on her face if he hadn't had the ominous feeling that this was a hint of things to come.

The Chunin Exams.

"He broke her ribs," he told Kiba. Shikako's face was fond and exasperated, but not in the least bit worried. Oh, about Sasuke's strange bite, certainly. About the fact that there'd been an S-ranked missing nin running around in the forest, probably more than she let on. But about the fact that her own teammate had raised his hand against her, had injured her so badly that she passed out...

She didn't seem at all concerned.

He was more than relieved when she forfeited. If she hadn't, he would've been stuck between fighting and possibly injuring her, or forfeiting himself and leaving her to face more dangerous opponents later on. Yes, he decided as they confronted Sabaku no Gaara over a hospital bed, it had been the ideal option.

The irony that she'd had to face Gaara anyway—once in the invasion, and again in her next exams—wasn't lost on him.

But after a while, things seemed okay. No matter how weird it was to be deferring leadership to his little sister, she handled her role during the invasion fairly well, and none of them were severely injured. He knew if she'd come up against anyone but him in the prelims, she would've made chunin, guaranteed. A part of him was glad she hadn't.

And then Itachi Uchiha happened.

And the Sound mission.

And Gelel. Stupid, fucking Gelel.

For days, it felt like he couldn't breathe. The weight of seeing her scream, the weight of seeing her get stabbed, the weight of seeing her collapse and die— _twice_ —it dragged him down like an anchor, kept him awake in the middle of the night. If only he'd been faster—if he'd done something—if they hadn't investigated that stupid nation at all—

But he knew in his heart that that hadn't been an option. Sand had needed them, in the end. And they'd prevented what would probably have been the destruction of the entire continent.

He didn't care.

His sister had died.

When he'd calmed down enough, when she was awake and pale with her eyes alight with false brightness, he carefully considered the options.

"You know, you don't have to do field work," he suggested, haltingly. Hesitantly. "There are plenty of—"

She jerked. She dropped a shogi piece. She _glared_ at him. And then, at the end of it, she closed off and refused.

He left the room more frustrated than angry. Why couldn't she understand? She'd _died_ , on that mission—"nearly didn't come home," like he'd told her—but she didn't seem to see that, didn't seem to realize, or acknowledge, how close he'd been to losing her. Or if she did, she was in so much denial about it that she wouldn't even talk to him—her twin.

 _What the hell was so important that she would value it over her own life?_

He closed his eyes, and let the frustration slip away to leave coldness in its wake. Coldness, and calculation, and probabilities.

Then he opened his eyes and went to go find Kofuku-oba.

Shikako figured it out, of course. He'd predicted she would. He'd also predicted that it wouldn't matter, that she'd take advantage of her approved proposal anyway. He was struck when she ended up in trouble for her work, but he wasn't sorry. Anything was better than another mission. Anything, even losing their bond, was better than losing her.

She did go on more missions; he heard about them from Naruto, from Ino, from the chunin at the mission desk. None of them were deadly. Each of them made him consider new moves, new tactics, to box her in and make her stay.

It was uncomfortable, sometimes, thinking of his own sister as an enemy, but he was only doing this because she _refused to think of herself at all._

The Chunin Exams in Grass. He thought, again, that things would be okay. They'd be in foreign territory, but Grass were allies, and anyway the adult ninja would be on higher alert than they had been at home. Shikako wouldn't be stupid, either. He took Ino aside and told her to look out for his sister; the blonde gave him a dry look.

"I'll try, Shikamaru," she told him, sounding resigned. "But she attracts trouble like a magnet, and she's stubborn, you know."

He knew. But he was just as stubborn; they were twins, after all.

Shikako came home with a new vest, and for all of half an hour, everything was fine. She talked about the exam set up, about their fights, about the other contestants. He should've known she was just using the cheeriness to hide something. Again.

"There was a kidnapping," she said deliberately, when Dad asked, and Shikamaru knew exactly what she wasn't saying.

"I'm fine, okay?" she said then, on the defense. "There's no need to get all upset about it."

She'd missed the point. She always, always missed the point. Why couldn't he make her see? "Dammit, Shikako! You think this is about me being upset?"

Dad scolded them and Shikako settled down, but he couldn't resist one last jab. It was his mistake: the heat simmering inside her exploded and the next thing he knew they were yelling at each other. He barely remembered what he'd said. The frustration, the anger, the worry—it all burned away at him until he wanted to slap some sense into her—and he couldn't do that, it was a line he wouldn't cross—so he left.

It was for her own good, he tells himself now. Everything he did, everything he said. It was for her.

He lets the anger burn out, but he's run out of coldness. In the leftover spaces there is only exhaustion, and despair, and helplessness, because _she won't listen to him_. He can control his strategies, his surroundings, even himself, but he can't control her. He can't force her to stay put, or stop going on missions, or even admit that she isn't okay. And whenever he tries, it blows up in his face.

Shikamaru buries said face in his pillow, and wonders how things went so horribly wrong.

* * *

A/N: Because the recent Nara twin fight blew my heart into pieces. I was literally writing this at 3 AM last night after reading SQ's update, because the sentences were just appearing in my head and I was afraid I'd forget them if I left them till the morning.

I know we sympathize with Shikako a lot-she's our beloved narrator, after all-but I feel for Shikamaru. From his point of view, Shikako _is_ being difficult and uncommunicative. And she's refusing to deal with her problems, which is really dangerous for a shinobi. I couldn't help noticing, though, that his conversation with Shikaku jumped straight from "she needs to talk to someone" to "you need to order her to stop." Both he and Shikako have pretty much given up on open communication. Poor kids.


	3. Sasuke, timeskip

It happens because they just finished sparring, and they're tired and sore and hungry, and neither of them is thinking—which is rare enough that neither of them realize it, either.

They're discussing the spar—Shikako calls it arguing, but that's undignified, and anyway Sasuke _won_ so there's nothing to argue about—while they walk down the street. Shikako healed them both after the fight, but the right part of her sleeve is hanging by a thread after being singed by Sasuke's Grand Fireball, and he still smells like smoke from getting caught at the edge of one of her Touch-Blast seals. That's the thing about fights with Shikako: she gives as good as she gets, and the outcome is never predictable. He knows more jutsu, but she's faster, and she relies on skill and strategy and seals, none of which he can copy. Sure, he won this time, but there was a fair bit of luck involved.

Luck, and a new Raiton she hadn't been expecting.

"...but I'm just saying, if I'd used the Replacement Jutsu after you broke out your ninja wire-" Shikako stops. "Oh."

Sasuke follows her gaze, and suddenly realizes that they've been surrounded by the smell of broth for a while now.

They're both silent. Then, as if on cue, their stomachs rumble, and they glance at each other.

Shikako politely ignores Sasuke's flush—he can feel it climbing up his neck—and tilts her head. _Should we...?_

Sasuke considers, a little annoyed by his own hesitation—there's no real reason _not_ to, after all. It's not that ramen is bad, per se, it's just that it's really salty and there are other foods... But he nods once, and ducks under the flaps. He can hear Shikako do the same.

"Ah, Shikako-chan, Sasuke-kun, welcome!" Teuchi beams at them both. "It's been a while, hasn't it? How have you been?"

"Well, thank you, Teuchi-san," Shikako says, sliding into the seat at the end of the counter. Sasuke sits down next to her. "Um...can I get a regular shoyu ramen, please?"

"Of course. And a regular salt ramen with extra tonkotsu for you, Sasuke-kun?"

"Thank you," Sasuke says politely. He doesn't miss the way the chef's eyes flicker up and away from him expectantly, and the way the older man's expression falls afterward, when he remembers.

They make small talk with the man as he putters away: he comments on their chunin vests (and gives his congratulations); Shikako regales him with some of the flashier battles (he oohs and aahs appropriately); he tells them about his business (it's thriving); Shikako asks after his daughter (apparently she's apprenticing at a dango shop a few streets down).

Alright, so it's mostly Shikako who talks, but Sasuke does comment occasionally. He may not have much patience for small talk, but he's not rude, either.

"Here," Teuchi finally says, as he sets the steaming bowls down in front of them. "Half off today, in celebration of your promotion! Congratulations, both of you!"

Sasuke glances at Shikako and is gratified to see that she looks just as startled as he feels; their promotion was a while ago. "Ah, thank you, Teuchi-san, but there's really no need—"

The chef waves her words away. "No, no, I insist! It's a small thing—you're Naruto's teammates, after all!"

Then another customer walks in, and Teuchi turns to greet them.

It takes them a bit longer than usual, but Sasuke and Shikako eventually ease back into normal conversation. There's not much she can tell him about her work in Intelligence, but she's good at glossing over the classified parts and jumping into the details of her weird coworkers, from Ibiki to Anko to even Ino (who he's been gaining a grudging respect for, these days). He talks about training and his mission runs with the border patrol, not missing the gleam in her eyes that betrays how much she misses being out in the field. She tries to wheedle him into testing a new seal she's been working on, and though he refuses at first, he can't deny that a part of him is curious to see if it works as well as she claims it does.

And through it all, they are careful not to pay attention to the empty seat on Sasuke's right, or the silences when they're both eating that would normally be punctuated by loud exclamations or outlandish stories.

It's not the same, with just the two of them.

Finally, they finish their ramen. " _Gochisousamadeshita_ ," they both say, leaving their money on the counter and scooting their chairs back. _That was delicious._ They duck out with Teuchi's "Please come again!" ringing in their ears, and the taste of salty broth in their mouths.

On the walk back, they lock eyes, and silently agree not to go back to Ichiraku's again.

Not until he comes back.

* * *

A/N: It's called fanfiction for a reason, so don't crucify me if they go eat at Ichiraku's in SQ's next update ;)


End file.
